Saturday, September 29, 2018

I just spent several hours blocking most of the annoying, passive-aggressive, envious, mostly talentless and zero-wisdom, overwhelmingly overtly left-wing Western Buddhists I met over the last 10 years in India and Nepal. Feels very liberating. It's time to stop being Mr. Nice Guy and set our boundaries. These people will never do anything for us, and are always waiting in ambush. Some of them would probably kill me if they had the chance. They're cultish and stingy and closed-minded as hell. I should have cut most of them off 4-8 years ago. Tibetans are mostly cool, but a whole lot of those Western Buddhists are a very misguided, egotistical and uncompassionate bunch, to say the least. The politics is more indicative of their neurosis than the cause of it though. Fucked up society, what can you say, Buddhism won't fix their problems because they don't even understand it or practice it, it's really better to keep a polite distance, and be extremely discerning...

Erick T.

FOUR YOGAS OF MAHAMUDRA via TULKU URGYEN RINPOCHE

FOUR YOGAS OF MAHAMUDRA
TULKU URGYEN RINPOCHE
The Four Yogas of Mahamudra are called One-Pointedness, Simplicity, One Taste, and Nonmeditation. The stage of fruition is realized when the dharmakaya throne of nonmeditation is attained.
One-pointedness, the first yoga of Mahamudra, has three levels: lesser, medium, and greater. One-pointedness, for the most part, consist of shamatha and the gradual progression through the stages of shamatha with support, and without support, and finally to the shamatha that delights the Tathagatas. During the process fixation gradually diminishes.
The next stage, Simplicity, basically means non-fixation. During the three levels lesser, medium and greater Simplicity, fixation falls more and more apart, While One-pointedness is mainly shamatha, Simplicity emphasizes vipashyana.
One Taste is the state of mind in which shamatha and vipashyana is united. Appearance and mind arise as one taste. One does not need to confine appearances to being there and consciousness to being here, but the dualistic fixation of appearance and mind mingle into one taste in the space of nonduality.
Dualistic concepts such as good and bad, pure and impure, pleasure and pain, existence and nonexistence, object to be accepted and rejected, adopted or avoided, as well as hope and fear: everything mingle as one taste, the royal seat of dharmakaya.
At this level there still remain some sense of enjoying the spectacle of one nature, one taste, but at the fourth stage, Nonmeditation, even subtle concepts of watcher and something watched, meditator and object of meditation, are dissolved within the space free from mental constructs. Thus, the Dharmakaya Throne of Nonmeditation is attained. Dzogchen calls this stage the exhaustion of phenomena beyond concepts. Nothing needs to be meditated upon or cultivated; that is Dharmakaya.
At the time of One-pointedness don't fixate. During Simplicity don't fall into extremes. Don't cling to the taste of One Taste. Nonmeditation transcends conceptual mind.

https://www.facebook.com/notes/thubten-kway/four-yogas-of-mahamudra/10217593973547002/

Friday, September 28, 2018

The Dhāraṇī for Seeing Dreams (of Vajrapāṇi)

sept 6 2018 via https://buddha-nature.com/2018/09/06/the-dhara%E1%B9%87i-for-seeing-dreams-of-vajrapa%E1%B9%87i/



The Dhāraṇī for Seeing Dreams (of Vajrapāṇi)

The Dhāraṇī for Seeing Dreams (of Vajrapāṇi)
རྨི་ལམ་མཐོང་བ་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས།
(rmi lam mthong ba zhes bya ba’i gzungs)
Translated from the Tibetan by Erick Tsiknopoulos

རྒྱུད། ཅ།
From the Ca volume of the ‘Tantra’ (rgyud) section in the Kangyur (bka’ ‘gyur), the Tibetan Buddhist scriptural canon; Lhasa edition.
།དཀོན་མཆོག་གསུམ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ།
HOMAGE TO THE TRIPLE GEM!
།གནོད་སྦྱིན་གྱི་སྡེ་དཔོན་ཆེན་པོ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་དྲག་པོ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ།
HOMAGE TO THE GREAT COMMANDER OF THE YAKṢAS, THE FIERCE VAJRAPĀṆI!
[The Dhāraṇī is as follows:]
།ཨོཾ་མུ་ཙི་ནི་སྭཱ་ཧཱ། མུ་ཁེ་ས་སྭཱ་ཧཱ། མོ་ཧ་ནི་སྭཱཧཱ། དིནྟི་རི་སྭཱ་ཧཱ།
OṂ MUCINI SVĀHĀ/ MUKHESA SVĀHĀ/ MOHANI SVĀHĀ/ DINTIRI SVĀHĀ
[Tibetan pronunciation:
ONG MUTSINI SWĀHĀ/ MUKHESA SWĀHĀ/ MOHANI SWĀHĀ/ DINTIRI SWĀHĀ]
ཆོ་ག་ནི། ཆུ་ཁྱོར་བ་གང་ལ་བཟླས་པ་བྱས་ཏེ་འཐུངས་ནས་སེམས་བཞིན་དུ་ཉལ་ན། ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེས་རྨི་ལམ་སྟོན་པར་འགྱུར་རོ།
The ritual is as follows: If one recites [the Dhāraṇī] over some water filled into the palm of one’s hand, drinks it, and goes to sleep while contemplating it, then Vajrapāṇi will reveal dreams.
།རྨི་ལམ་མཐོང་བ་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས་རྫོགས་སོ།།
THE DHĀRAṆĪ FOR SEEING DREAMS IS COMPLETE.
(Translated from the Tibetan by Erick Tsiknopoulos, August 21st, 2018. Completed September 6th, 2018.)

Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra

September 26 
 https://buddha-nature.com/
Then said Mahamati to the Blessed One: It has been taught in the canonical books that the Buddhas are subject to neither birth nor destruction, and you have said that "the Un-born" is one of the names of the Tathágatas; does that mean that the Tathágata is a non-entity?

The Blessed One replied: The Tathágata is not a non-entity nor is he to be conceived as other things are as neither born nor disappearing, nor is he subject to causation, nor is he without significance; yet I refer to him as "The Un-born." There is yet another name for the Tathágata. "The Mind-appearing One" (Manomayakaya) which his Essence-body assumes at will in the transformations incident to his work of emancipation. This is beyond the understanding of common disciples and masters and even beyond the full comprehension of those Bodhisattvas who remain in the seventh stage. Yes, Mahamati, "The Un-born" is synonymous with Tathágata.

Then Mahamati said: If the Tathágatas are un-born, there does not seem to be anything to take hold of – no entity – or is there something that bears another name than entity? And what can that "something" be?

The Blessed One replied: Objects are frequently known by different names according to different aspects that they present; the god Indra is sometimes known as Shakra, and sometimes as Purandara. These different names are sometimes used interchangeably and sometimes they are discriminated, but different objects are not to be imagined because of the different names, nor are they without individuation. The same can be said of myself, as I appear in this world of patience before ignorant people, and where I am known by uncounted trillions of names. They address me by different names not realizing that they are all names of the one Tathágata. Some recognize me as Tathágata, some as the self-existent one, some as Gautama the Ascetic, some as Buddha. Then there are others who recognize me as Brahma, as Vishnu, as Ishvara; some see me as Sun, as Moon; some as a reincarnation of the ancient sages; some as one of "ten powers"; some as Rama, some as Indra, and some as Varuna. Still there are others who speak of me as The Un-born, as Emptiness, as "Suchness," as Truth, as Reality, as Ultimate Principle; still there are others who see me as Dharmakaya, as Nirvana, as the Eternal; some speak of me as sameness, as non-duality, as un-dying, as formless; some think of me as the doctrine of Buddha-causation, or of Emancipation, or of the Noble Path; and some think of me as Divine Mind and Noble Wisdom. Thus in this world and in other worlds am I known by these uncounted names, but they all see me as the moon is seen in the water. Though they all honor, praise and esteem me, they do not fully understand the meaning and significance of the words they use; not having their own self-realization of Truth they cling to the words of their canonical books, or to what has been told to them, or to what they have imagined, and fail to see that the name they are using is only one of the many names of the Tathágata. In their studies they follow the mere words of the text vainly trying to gain the true meaning, instead of having confidence in the one "text" where self-confirming Truth is revealed; that is, having confidence in the self-realization of Noble Wisdom.

Then said Mahamati: Pray tell us, Blessed One, about the self-nature of the Tathágatas?

The Blessed One replied: If the Tathágata is to be described by such expressions as made or un-made, effect or cause, we would have to describe him as neither made, nor un-made, nor effect, nor cause; but if we so described him we would be guilty of dualistic discrimination. If the Tathágata is something made, he would be impermanent; if he is impermanent anything made would be a Tathágata. If he is something un-made, then all effort to realize Tathágata-hood would be useless. That which is neither an effect or cause, is neither a being nor a non-being, and that which is neither a being nor non-being is outside the four propositions. The four propositions belong to worldly usage; that which is outside them is no more than a word, like a barren-woman’s child; so are all the terms concerning the Tathágata to be understood.

When it is said that all things are ego-less, it means that all things are devoid of self-hood. Each thing may have its own individuality—the being of a horse is not of cow nature—it is such as it is of its own nature and is thus discriminated by the ignorant, but, nevertheless, its own nature is of the nature of a dream or vision. That is why the ignorant and the simpleminded, who are in the habit of discriminating appearances, fail to understand the significance of ego-less-ness. It is not until discrimination is gotten rid of that the fact that all things are empty, un-born and without self-nature can be appreciated.

Mahamati, all these expressions as applied to the Tathágatas are without meaning, for that which is none of these is something removed from all measurement, and that which is removed from all measurement turns into a meaningless word; that which is a mere word is something un-born; that which is un-born is not subject to destruction; that which is not subject to destruction is like space and space is neither effect nor cause; that which is neither effect nor cause is something unconditioned; that which is unconditioned is beyond all reasoning; that which is beyond all reasoning, -- that is the Tathágata. The self-nature of Tathágata-hood is far removed from all predicates and measurements; the self-nature of Tathágata-hood is Noble Wisdom.

Then Mahamati said to the Blessed One: Are the Tathágatas permanent or impermanent?

The Blessed One replied: The Tathágatas are neither permanent nor impermanent; if either is asserted there is error connected with the creating agencies for, according to the philosophers, the creating agencies are something uncreated and permanent. But the Tathágatas are not connected with the so-called creating agencies and in that sense he is impermanent. If he is said to be impermanent then he is connected with things that are created for they also are impermanent. For these reasons the Tathágatas are neither permanent nor impermanent.

Neither can the Tathágatas be said to be permanent in the sense that space is said to be permanent, or that the horns of a hare can be said to be permanent for, being unreal, they exclude all ideas of permanency or impermanency. This does not apply to the Tathágatas because they come fourth from the habit-energy of ignorance, which is connected with the mind-system and the elements that make up personality. The triple world originates from the discrimination of unrealities and where discrimination takes place there is duality and the notion of permanency and impermanency, but the Tathágatas do not rise from the discrimination of unrealities. Thus, as long as there is discrimination there will be the notion of permanency and impermanency; when discrimination is done away with, Noble Wisdom, which is based on the significance of solitude, will be established.

However, there is another sense in which the Tathágatas may be said to be permanent. Transcendental Intelligence rising with the attainment of enlightenment is of a permanent nature. This Truth-essence, which is discoverable in the enlightenment of all who are enlightened, is realizable as the regulative and sustaining principle of Reality, which forever abides. The Transcendental Intelligence attained intuitively by the Tathágatas by their self-realization of Noble Wisdom, is a realization of their own self-nature, in this sense the Tathágatas are permanent. The eternal-unthinkable of the Tathágatas is the "Suchness" of noble Wisdom realized within themselves. It is both eternal and beyond thought. It conforms to the idea of a cause and yet is beyond existence and non-existence. Because it is the exalted state of Noble-Wisdom, it has its own character. Because it is the cause of highest Reality, it is its own causation. Its eternality is not derived from reasoning’s based on external notions of being and non-being, nor of eternality nor non-eternality. Being classed under the same head as space, cessation, Nirvana, it is eternal. Because it has nothing to do with existence and non- existence, it is no creator; because it has nothing to do with creation, nor with being and non-being, but is only revealed in the exalted state of noble Wisdom, it is truly eternal.

When the twofold passions are destroyed, and the twofold hindrances are cleared away, and the twofold ego-less-ness is fully understood, and the inconceivable transformation death of the Bodhisattva is attained – that which remains is the self-nature of the Tathágatas. When the teachings of the Dharma are fully understood and are perfectly realized by the disciples and masters that which is realized in their deepest consciousness is their own Buddha-nature revealed as Tathágata.

In a true sense there are four kinds of sameness relating to Buddha-nature: there is sameness of letters, sameness of words, sameness of meaning, and sameness of Essence. The name of the Buddha is spelt: B-U-D-D-H-A; the letters are the same when used for any Buddha or Tathágata. When the Brahmans teach they use various words, and when the Tathágatas teach they use the very same words; in respect to the words there is a same-ness between us. In the teachings of all the Tathágatas there is a same-ness of meaning. Among all the Buddhas there is a sameness of Buddha nature. They all have the thirty-two marks of excellence and the eighty minor signs of bodily perfection; there is no distinction among them except as they manifest various transformations according to the different dispositions of beings who are to be disciplined and emancipated by various means. In the Ultimate Essence, which is Dharmakaya, all the Buddhas of the past, present and future, are of one same-ness.

Then said Mahamati to the Blessed One: It has been said by the Blessed One that from the night of Enlightenment to the night of the Parinirvana, the Tathágata has uttered no word nor ever will utter a word. In what deep meaning is this true?

The Blessed One replied: By two reasons of deepest meaning is it true: In the light of Truth self-realized by Noble Wisdom, and in the Truth of an eternally abiding Reality. The self-realization of Noble Wisdom by all Tathágatas is the same as my own self-realization of Noble Wisdom; there is no more, no less, no difference, and all the Tathágatas bear witness that the state of self-realization is free from words and discriminations and has nothing to do with the dualistic way of speaking, that is, all beings receive the teachings of the Tathágatas through self-realization of Noble Wisdom, not though words of discrimination.

Again Mahamati, there has always been an eternally abiding reality. The "substance" of Truth (Dharmadhatu) abides forever whether a Tathágata appears in the world or not. So does the Reason of all things (dharmata) eternally abide; so does Reality (paramartha) abide and keep its order. What has been realized by myself and all other Tathágatas is this Reality (Dharmakaya), the eternally abiding self-orderliness of Reality; the "Suchness" (tathata) of all things; the realness of things (bhutata); Noble Wisdom, which is Truth itself. The sun radiates its splendor spontaneously on all alike and with no words of explanation; in like manner do the Tathágatas radiate the Truth of Noble Wisdom with no recourse to words and to all alike. For these reasons is it stated by me that from the night of enlightenment to the night of the Tathágata’s Parinirvana, he has not uttered, nor will he utter, one word. And the same is true of all the Buddhas.

Then said Mahamati: Blessed one, you speak of the sameness of all Buddhas, but in other places you have spoken of Dharmata-Buddha, Nishyanda-Buddha and Nirmana-Buddha as though they were different from each other; how can they be the same and yet different?

The Blessed One replied: I speak of the different Buddhas as opposed to the views of the philosophers who base their teachings on the reality of an external world of from and who cherish discrimination and attachments arising there from; against the teachings of these philosophers I disclose the Nirmana-Buddha, the Buddha of Transformations. In the many transformations of the Tathágata stage, the Nirmana-Buddha establishes such matters as charity, morality, patience, thoughtfulness, and tranquillization: by right-knowledge he teaches the true understanding of Maya-like nature of the elements that make up personality and its external world; he teaches the true nature of the mind-system as a whole and in the distinctions of its forms, functions and ways of performance. In a deeper sense, the Nirmana-Buddha symbolizes the principles of differentiation and integration by reason of which all component things are distributed, all complexities simplified, all thoughts analyzed; at the same time it symbolizes the harmonizing, unifying power of sympathy and compassion; it removes all obstacles, it harmonizes all differences, it brings into perfect Oneness the discordant many. For the emancipation of all beings the Bodhisattvas and Tathágatas assume bodies of transformation and employ many skilful devices, this is the work of the Nirmana-Buddha.

For the enlightenment of the Bodhisattvas and their sustaining along the stages, the Inconceivable is made realizable. The Nishyanda-Buddha, the "Out-flowing-Buddha," though Transcendental Intelligence, reveals the true meaning and significance of appearances, discrimination, attachment; and of the power of habit-energy which is accumulated by them and conditions them; and of the un-born-ness, the emptiness, the ego-less-ness of all things. Because of Transcendental Intelligence and the purification of the evil out-flowings of life, all dualistic views of existence and non existence are transcended and by self realization of Noble Wisdom the true image-less-ness of Reality is made manifest. The inconceivable glory of Buddhahood is made manifest in rays of Noble Wisdom; Noble Wisdom is the self-nature of the Tathágatas. This is the work of the Nishyanda-Buddha. In a deeper sense, the Nishyanda-Buddha symbolizes the emergence of the principles of intellection and compassion but as yet undifferentiated and in perfect balance, potential but un-manifest. Looked at from the in-going side of the Bodhisattva, Nishyanda-Buddha is seen in the glorified bodies of the Tathágatas; looked at from the fourth-going side of Buddhahood, Nishyanda-Buddha is seen in the radiant personalities of the Tathágatas ready and eager to manifest the inherent Love and Wisdom of the Dharmakaya.

Dharmata-Buddha is Buddhahood in its self-nature of perfect oneness in whom absolute Tranquility prevails. As noble Wisdom, Dharmata-Buddha transcends all differentiated knowledge, is the goal of intuitive self-realization, and is the self-nature of the Tathágatas. As Noble Wisdom, Dharmata-Buddha is the ultimate Principle of Reality from which all things derive their being and truthfulness, but which in itself transcends all predicates. Dharmata-Buddha is the central sun, which holds all, illumines all. Its inconceivable Essence is made manifest in the "out-flowing" glory of Nishyanda-Buddha and in the transformations of the Nirmana-Buddha.

--Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

There are times in our lives—such as facing death or even giving birth—when we are no longer able to manage our outer image, no longer able to suspend ourselves in pursuit of the ideal self. It’s just how it is—we’re only human beings, and in these times of crisis we just don’t have the energy to hold it all together. When things fall apart, we can only be as we are. Pretense and striving fall away, and life becomes starkly simple.
The value of such moments is this: we are shown that the game can be given up and that when it is, the emptiness that we feared, emptiness of the void, is not what is there. What is there is the bare fact of being. Simple presence remains—breathing in and out, waking up and going to sleep. The inevitability of the circumstances at hand is compelling enough that for the moment, our complexity ceases. Our compulsive manufacturing of contrived existence stops. Perhaps in that ungrounded space, we are not even comforting ourselves, not even telling ourselves everything is okay; we may be too tired to do even that. It’s just total capitulation—we’re forced into non-grasping of inherent reality.
It is said that the great fourteenth-century terton in the Nyingma lineage, Karma Lingpa, soon after losing his wife and their child within just a few days of each other, extracted a treasure of teachings from the side of a mountain. Because of all the spiritual practice he had done, the disruption he experienced sparked a volcanic eruption of wisdom from which flowed The Self-Emergence of the Peaceful and Wrathful Deities from Enlightened Awareness, known here in the West as The Tibetan Book of the Dead. That act of revelation is in itself a key teaching, the idea that death and loss are great teachers if we can just open to the experience of profound disruption. Just like Karma Lingpa, encountering death can open us up to a basic level of being—raw, unmanaged, unmanipulated. That natural condition, that unconditioned state, is what shunyata points to.
What’s underneath all of our experience? If there is no inherent existence to hold on to, then what is ultimate reality? If I lose all my possessions, my job, all my money, then what remains of me? If we don’t know the answer, then the question becomes a primordial anxiety that forms the background of all we say and do and think.
The extent to which we know what’s underlying everything—the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, that which we can control, that which we can’t—is the extent to which we can relax. To the extent that we know our presence of awareness as reality, it becomes bearable. As we gain intimacy with that ground, we can even have sanity when life is hard, even when knowing that an experience is going to be painful. Think how willing we are to bear that pain for someone we really love. It’s how life begins, after all, with our mother, through love, enduring the pain of childbirth.
Why should we be any less willing to bear the pain of death or loss or change? If we’re in touch with the ground of being, perhaps there may be ease and comfort even in dying. That ground allows us to walk the earth with a clarity that accommodates whatever arises. So when we have to lose, we can lose. And when we have to let go, at times of great loss or when we depart from this body, then something else becomes possible. This is what emerges in the bardo—presence as the ground of being.
What makes death and impermanence so painful is our idea of the strict dichotomy between existence and nonexistence. Knowing something beyond that dualism is paramount. At the moment of death, instead of being caught between the ideas of existence and nonexistence, instead of this crisis of having everything that matters to us taken away all at once, something else can open up entirely; we shift our attention to the nucleus of being, to presence itself, experiencing itself.
But when we are not in crisis, recognizing presence as our nucleus and grounding ourselves in the sense of experience itself is a difficult endeavor. The fact is that we are disassociated from our true nature. We experience it all the time—in little tastes, in the gaps between realms, between all of our many identities and roles, and even between thoughts—but since we don’t even recognize it, we don’t know how to be with it, to rest in it. We contract with our wounded sense of self and with frantic efforts to create something more ideal, more secure, more definite. In this way, we experience ourselves over and over as both confusion and wisdom—a treacherous and fantastic situation. We taste the ground here and there but can’t ingest it, which creates a dramatic friction, one that gives rise to all the mental poisons as a means of coping with this chronic cognitive dissonance between open ground and contracted being.
Without some way of managing this experience, this unsettling discontinuity punctuated by occasional disruptions to the very idea of our being, we never know if we are going to show up in the next moment as a buddha or as a demon. We’re like gods one moment, tasting the fruit of the kingdom, and hungry ghosts the next, not even able to swallow it. How confusing—and how fantastic! This confusion is the raw material of wisdom. Our path is to find presence in each of these experiences. In the case of the bardo, when presence is the only real thing left, if we are searching for security instead, wisdom can be elusive. It’s no wonder that religion becomes so poignant during times of crisis; suddenly, presence is all we are. Everything else recedes except what is right in front of us. Recognizing this opens up the potential to experience life with awareness of impermanence and the presence it illuminates.
So the first essential point is rupture. The second is emptying out the contrived self. And the third is the recognition that our experience is based on dynamic, responsive presence. Our goal as vajra yogins and yoginis is to know that ground, become familiar with it, and learn to relax into the inherent peacefulness of not knowing what comes next. When we do—and to the extent that we do—everything changes. We are no longer slaves to primordial anxiety.
Experiencing a loss can be freeing. When we are free of all our psychological heaviness, the accumulated weight of our usual momentum, we have an opportunity to know the raw presence that remains. To be a Buddhist is to dedicate our lives to abiding in that impermanent, empty, visceral presence. We can bear with greater ease those losses that we know we will inevitably face, because we identify with the thread of wakefulness that we meet in all of them. And then perhaps, when death draws near, we can relax with ease into the ground of being as we shed this skin, finally let go of this body, and experience liberation—undefended being in groundless space.
Longchenpa described the fourth essential point as “majestic utter sameness—the pure fact of being, where mind and what appears are primordially pure.”
The fourth essential point, put simply, is that the world we produce from loss can be created with a light heart as a state of play. Thinley Norbu Rinpoche wrote, “Fish play in the water. Birds play in the sky. Ordinary beings play on earth. Sublime beings play in display.” In the raw, broken-open state, this place where we let go of all games, there is actually a great sense of relief available to us, a knowledge that we don’t have to do that anymore, to be that. When someone dies, don’t we suddenly see how unreal so many things are and how visceral the present space is? There can be a feeling of getting to the heart of things, a juxtaposition of real and unreal. That’s the beauty of not grasping onto an inherent reality. If we can find ways to disrupt our own habit of clinging to our continuity story, to just strip it all down—without having to wait to lose a loved one, or get that terminal diagnosis from our doctor, or lie on that gurney—then what we find there in any bare moment is creative, instantaneous playfulness. It is this raw energy that spoke directly to Longchenpa: “All that is has me—universal creativity, pure and total presence—as its root. How things appear is my being. How things arise is my manifestation.”
Emerging from the bardo, we reenter the flow of life with a new sense of groundlessness: it is clear that “later” is not always a luxury that will be available to us; we are also disconnected from the past. That makes nowness starkly available. The perspective gained in the bardo cuts through petty concerns. It cuts through delusions so that whatever we contact, we do so with a raw presence, without the denial of impermanence. As long as we remain in this illumined state and still remember that grasping is futile, a new kind of openness becomes available to us. We have lost our delusions; to love and live now is to do so with nothing to lose because, for the time being, what really mattered has already been lost.
The Vajrayana idea of death, birth, and reincarnation is not just a matter of preparing for physical death, or dealing with the loss of our loved ones with rituals and prayers, or having the right attitude in mourning and grief. It is the messenger of our own uncontrived being, delivering us into the basic space of pure being. It shows us what comes after rupture. What may be the most poignant thing about the loss of a loved one is that after they have passed away, life simply keeps going. It just keeps going.
Death is connected to rebirth. The rupture of bardo inevitably leads to whatever is next. If we appreciate these successive deaths and rebirths in our lives, then we can value the bardo for what it is—the pause that makes movement apparent, the silence that makes all sounds more vivid, the end that clarifies what exactly we will now be beginning. Impermanence is not just an illuminator of loss. It is an illuminator of newness, the ever-unfolding present moment and its creativity.
Traditionally, we have three different possibilities for what happens after death. There is the default mode of rebirth with all these accumulated, bulky layers of previous karmic propensities. There is also the kind of reincarnation that great compassionate beings, such as the Dalai Lama and the Karmapa, consciously choose for the highest benefit of sentient beings in this world. But then there is something else: this more impersonal, ceaseless creativity that keeps multiplying itself in playful modes of being, like the image from the Avatamsaka Sutra of a radiant buddha oozing buddhas from every pore of his or her being, and from every pore of every one of those buddhas, more buddhas giving way to whole other universes of being. This is true compassion, a total responsiveness to what is here.
That’s the kind of life after death that Vajrayana practitioners rehearse in deity yoga. It is a practice of dying to the contrived self in order to arise in the creative space of momentary presence. It is bursting forward into life, emerging with this pure primordial creativity at play in the shifting fields of empty identities. It’s a kind of regeneration, a total recycling, a complete merging and reemerging.
It is a shifting ground, because compassionate responsiveness is not static; we never step into the same river twice. But this doesn’t mean that there is nothing there. It isn’t that there is something there, either—but it’s not nothing. Longchenpa calls it the “self-originating clear light” and says that in this light, “what appears is neither concretized nor latched onto, because what appears never becomes what it seems to be and is intrinsically free.” You see? It is not just another construct. It’s the ground that does not need to be contrived or maintained. It’s experience itself.”
~ Pema Khandro Rinpoche is recognized as a tulku in the Nyingma and Kagyu lineages. She is the founder of Ngakpa International and the MahaSiddha Center in Berkeley, California.

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